


I fell and rose

by Jashin88



Series: Along the line, I fell and rose (for you) [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Harvey being the voice of reason, M/M, Swearing, alternate storyline beginning somewhere in season one, people not realizing that talking helps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-16 01:57:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9268589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jashin88/pseuds/Jashin88
Summary: ***It´s been less than a month now, and he´s already feeling the strain. He´s tired, not just physically but emotionally.“You don´t want to stay?” Jim almost hits himself as soon as the words leave his mouth.“You don´t want me to stay. Not today.”Jim stares at the ground. He doesn´t want to be alone, dreads the silence and the feeling of abandonment. He hears Oswald move, but only looks up when there´s a hand on the side of his neck.“Sleep well, James.” With a kiss to Jim´s cheek Oswald leaves the apartment.And Jim feels lost..Or: Communication is key; Jim and Harvey work a new case; and nobody knows how to deal with other people.***





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, here we have part two (which wasn´t planned and I´m absolutely aren´t making the plot up as I go) of what is now apparently going to be a series. We´ll see how that goes.
> 
> I hope you´ll enjoy the story. If you have the time, please consider leaving a comment.
> 
> This story isn´t really beta´ed, and English isn´t my first language, so please excuse any mistakes I may have made. Or tell me where and I´ll fix it. ^.^
> 
> Let´s get startet.  
> __________________________________________________________________________________________________________

***

 

It´s been less than a month now, and he´s already feeling the strain. He´s tired, not just physically but _emotionally._

With Barbara, he had never been sure what to talk about. The crimes were too gruesome, the paperwork too boring, the gossip meaningless. In the end, he had nothing to say and Barbara didn´t ask. They sat in the living room, drinking, in silence. Maybe he should have seen the signs of a failing relationship sooner.

He doesn´t have this problem now. Strictly speaking, Jim´s not even in a relationship right now, because he´s still not sure what the hell he and Oswald are doing, let alone what they _are_. They are talking, they have dinner, he´s still fascinated.

And Oswald tries. Jim knows he does. He tries so hard to _not_ say anything of interest, or GCPD related, or crime related. But Jim notices the slightly too long pauses, the careful turns in conversation. Oswald is a skilled talker, under all his pretending, and still he´s slipping ever so slightly.

“Is that blood?”, he asks, against his better judgement. What else could it be? He doubts Oswald´s shirt decided to get close and nasty with a glass of jam.

Oswald glances at his shirt cuff. “Oh. I´m sorry. Seems like I missed a spot.” The smudge disappears under his jacket.

“A spot? There was more?”

“You don´t want me to answer that.” Oswald answers with an almost sad smile. He´s right. Jim doesn´t.

“Is the other one dead?” He can´t help but ask.

“Jim.”

“Was Zsasz with you?”

“Why?”

“He´s supposed to protect you, isn´t he? So you don´t have to do things like this?!”

“Jim.”

“What?!”

“I won´t lie to you and I can´t tell you what happened. I won´t incriminate anyone, not even in front of you. There was a situation and I handled it.”

“That´s all?”

“I will not endanger you.”

“So I´m a damsel in distress?” Jim starts pacing. He really doesn´t want to fight, but he can´t seem to help himself. They are dancing around each other, keeping everything close to their chests. He knows that Oswald keeps him safe and simultaneously makes him more of a target. He _knows_. He´s just feeling too restless at the moment, unable to stop.

“We both know you´re not.” Oswald´s patience drives Jim up the wall. If they weren´t in his own apartment he would long have stormed out.

“James, look at me.”

Jim stops and does as he´s told. Oswald hasn´t moved from where he sits on a chair in Jim´s kitchen, looking smaller and still more confident than Jim feels.

“You´re tired. I understand, so I won´t keep you. Eat something and go to bed. We can talk tomorrow.” Oswald stands and gathers his umbrella, straightening his cufflinks.

“You don´t want to stay?” Jim almost hits himself as soon as the words leave his mouth.

“ _You_ don´t want me to stay. Not today.”

Jim stares at the ground. He doesn´t want to be alone, dreads the silence and the feeling of abandonment. He hears Oswald move, but only looks up when there´s a hand on the side of his neck.

“Sleep well, James.” With a kiss to Jim´s cheek Oswald leaves the apartment.

And Jim feels lost.

 

\------------------------

 

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Shut up, Harvey.”

“Uh, that bad? What happened? Did he bring some work home and left him in the bathtub? I thought you appreciated enthusiasm for one´s work?”

“I mean it , Harvey. I´m not in the mood.”

“Couldn´t get you in the mood, could he?” Harvey winks at him. Jim narrowly resists the impulse to strangle him.

“We fought, okay?! Are you happy now?”, Jim bursts out. He doesn´t have the patience to keep himself in check.

“Do I have to murder him?”, Harvey asks. Jim can´t tell if he´s joking or not. Harvey can be surprisingly scary when he wants to.

“No.”

“A damn shame.”

“He´s – he´s just himself. He won´t stop, he won´t show remorse, he´s not giving me anything on him. And even if he did- I´m not sure I would use it against him.”

“So?”

Jim glares at his partner. Harvey shrugs.

“I don´t have to tell you that you´re compromised. You already know that. Hell, you´ve been compromised since that damn day at the docks. What do you want me to say?”

“I don´t know.” Jim rakes a hand through his hair.

“And what are you gonna do?”

“I don´t know.”

 

\---------------------

 

They get coffee because Harvey´s not good with words and thinks cheap coffee is a cure for all of the feelings related evils in the world.

Needless to say, it´s only a short term solution. Whatever the taste in Jim´s mouth is supposed to be, it doesn´t resemble the bitter, strong, _reliable_ nature of a good brew. It does, however, keep his thoughts occupied. Should he call the colleagues from the DEA? What poisonous ingredients are normal civilians capable of getting their hands on and in their coffee which they are then serving to unsuspecting police officers? Jim scowls at his cup, willing it to spill it´s secrets. He almost succeeds and instead spills the liquid. What a _shame_.

Harvey rolls his eyes.

Jim shrugs.

Then there´s a gunshot.

 

***


	2. Chapter 2

***

 

To say it´s awkward is an understatement.

Oswald arrives at the GCPD two minutes after Jim and Harvey return, his posture even more rigid than usual. Jim mentally winces only thinking about how the strain now will hurt Oswald later, and then physically winces when his head throbs.

“What did he do?” Oswald stares at Harvey, doesn´t even look closer at Jim. Harvey responds in kind.

“Charged headfirst into a bank robbery, is what he did.”

“You let him?”

“Do I look like a great sprinter to you?”

They continue their staring contest for a few seconds, then Oswald nods and finally looks at Jim. Jim feels suddenly a lot smaller.

Silence.

Jim clears his throat.

Looks at Harvey. Who is suddenly very busy filling reports. Asshole.

“What are you doing here?”, Jim asks. It feels like the whole precinct is staring.

“Since you called me, refused to tell me what happened, sounded like you were about to pass out, and then hanged up on me, I thought it was best to see for myself what you´ve gotten yourself into now.”, Oswald answers. There´s a slight tremor in his right hand. He doesn´t look to steady, but determined.

“Ah.” Jim thinks he might have a concussion. Would explain his exceptional eloquence. These thugs really did a number on him. A black eye and bruised ribs are the least of his concerns.

 

\-------------------

 

“Really, James? I thought you learned after Falcone- It doesn't matter. We're going.” Oswald doesn't even wait for an answer, just turns around and starts to leave. Jim hurries to follow. His head doesn't seem to appreciate the sudden movement and he falters.

“Where?”, Jim asks, getting a grip on himself and Harvey´s desk – landing on his face isn´t what he wants to do right now. And he's still a cop and won't just let a criminal lead him away to wherever they want, not even his criminal. He's stubborn like that.

Harvey scoffs.

“You're going home.”, Oswald answers.

“Can't drive at the moment.” Yeah, he's clearly concussed. Stupid brain, letting itself be rattled up like that.

“Which is why I have a driver. Now, do you want to waste more time standing here being not so subtly stared at, or are you coming?”

Harvey snorts. “Is he always this impatient? Must be a joy to have at home.”

He gets ignored.

“Can you walk without assistance?”, Oswald asks Jim instead. Jim nods. He's been leaning completely against the desk without noticing. Maybe he should lie down.

“Yeah, I'm fine.”

Oswald looks doubtful but doesn't comment. Harvey even escorts them to the door.

 

\-------------------

 

Turns out Oswald's driver today is Victor. To say Jim is overjoyed would be an understatement.

“Just don't vomit on my seat.”, Zsasz greets him and _holds the door for Jim_. Charming.

Oswald joins Jim on the backseat, looking straight ahead and still too tense.

“If you could hurry.”, Oswald instructs.

“Whatever you want, boss.”

Jim grits his teeth. This is not flirting. He's just tired and imagining things and there's not even a _glimmer_ of jealousy. He leans his head on the window, hoping the chill will soothe his headache. Jim whishes - and he knows how pathetic _that_ is - that Oswald would reach out. Given how tactile Oswald normally is it's a wonder he hasn't already. But he stays firmly on his side of the backseat, almost motionless, until they arrive in front of Jim's apartment.

Great, now Victor too knows where Jim lives. The door is again opened for him and Zsasz even offers to help him out of the car with an infuriating smirk on his face. Jim grumbles and hopes it's taken as the decline he intended it as.

Victor steps back and Jim gets out, and the next thing he knows is that he's standing in front of his front door and Oswald is staring at him like he doesn't know if he should be sympathetic or if violence _does_ sound like the more promising solution.

“I'm fine.”, Jim says before the other reaches a conclusion he doesn't like.

“I didn't ask.”

“Well, you should have.” His brain to mouth filter obviously doesn't work and he wants to hit himself - again - but Oswald seems unfazed and merely raises an eyebrow. Jim stares back. God, how can someone have such blue eyes...

“James.”

“Mh?”

“Do you want to stay here all day, or are you going to unlock your door?”

Jim snaps out of it. Right, _door_. Keys. He needs those. Jim fumbles in his jacket and - it's a miracle by now - gets lucky.

 

\----------------

 

He ends up on his couch, managing to slowly lie down without throwing up. He can hear Oswald rummaging around in the kitchen. He desperately wants some painkillers now.

Oswald appears at his side - great, he's a psychic now - holding a glass of water in one and two pills in the other hand. Jim closes his eyes. Two can play this game. He blames the concussion for his childishness.

“Jim.”

He doesn't want to talk. Doesn't know what to say, so he waits for Oswald to crack. He knows the other doesn't have unlimited patience, even with him. So Jim waits, eyes stubbornly closed, and hates himself just a little for it. But he's better at reacting, that's why he's a good cop, and that's what he will do.

The glass makes almost no sound when it's placed on the table, and then Oswald is gone, front door closing softly behind him.

It's like a bizarre repetition of their previous 'meeting', and Jim feels even shittier.

 

\------------------

 

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because when he opens his eyes, it's pitch black outside. Jim scrambles for his phone, breathing too fast and harsh. He forgot who he's dealing with.

He knows the number by heart, doesn't even have to look while dialing - which is really fortunate because some ass made phones have a bright display and his head does not approve of this.

Jim anxiously listens to the dialing sound, hoping to whatever deity may be listening that Oswald has his phone on him and that it's not too late.

“Jim.”

“Oh, thank god. Are they dead yet?”

“And who exactly may 'they' be?”

“The wannabe bank robbers. God, I'm too late, aren't I? Fuck. Did they get the fancy sea burial?”

“Like the one I was supposed to get? Jim. I'm hanging up now. This is ridiculous.” The line goes dead.

Jim stares at his phone. No. No, no, no.

“Jim.”

Jim almost manages to snap his own neck with how fast he looks up. Oswald stands beside his couch, looking exaggerated and a bit disheveled. Too panicked to notice someone not-so-silently limping up to him - Jim mentally pats himself on the back.

“Where-“, he starts, but Oswald interrupts him.

“Before you start accusing me again: I was in your bedroom, not out murdering people.”

“And you were...?”

“Trying to sleep, Jim. It's what you do in a bed.”

“You left.”

“And came back. I'm tired, not malicious. I wouldn't want you to throw up and suffocate alone in your apartment. No matter what you think of me.”

“Ah.” There's more Jim wants to say, a lot more, but his mouth and brain won't cooperate.

Oswald snorts. “Lie back down, Jim. I'll keep watch.”

“Why? Why would you-“

“Because I'm selfish like that.”

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally managed to update. It´s a miracle. -_-"
> 
> If you liked the chapter, have some random thoughts on it, or noticed something that could be improved,please let me know. I´d appreciate it. ^.^


	3. Chapter 3

***

 

It feels like a Deja vu.

Jim wakes up and Oswald is gone. So much for watching over him. Jim shakes his head. When did he become so bitter?

He stands up with a groan. Great way to start the day, feeling like a truck run him over repeatedly. He glances at his phone. It's too bright, but he still does a double take when he sees the time. Shit. It's a wonder Harvey hasn't blown up his phone with messages by now.

Jim hurriedly gets up, cursing the whole time, and goes to find himself some new clothes.

 

\----------------

 

He just about managed to get into a different - mostly clean - pair of pants when there's a knock on his door.

“Jimbo! Come on, let me in!”

Harvey. Jim groans and wonders if he should just play dead.

“I already know you're alive!” Harvey sounds even more smug than usual, even through a door. _Bastard_ , Jim thinks - absolutely _not_ fond - and stumbles to let his partner in. Everything to get him to stop screaming.

“I brought you breakfast and coffee.”, Harvey says as soon as the door is open and holds a paper bag up into the air.

“Coffee?” Jim's brain seems to be not quite online.

“And breakfast. Although... I already drank your share too. For your own safety. Caffeine is bad for you, you know?” Harvey squeezes past Jim, glancing down the corridor before wandering into the kitchen. Jim follows because, well, _food_.

Harvey takes in the blankets scattered over the couch and the clothes still on the floor - more efficient than undressing while standing still - and raises an eyebrow.

“Before you ask: no, last night wasn't fun and yes, he isn't here.” God, Jim sounds sulky even to his own ears.

“Yeah, I hope so and yes, I know. He called me. Almost gave me a heart attack, let me tell you.”

Jim rolls his eyes and Harvey scoffs.

“You get called by an aspiring mob boss at an ungodly hour, and we'll see how _you_ react. Oh, I forgot, I already know because I have to listen to you two flirt constantly.”

“ _That_ won't be an issue any longer, it seems.”, Jim mumbles.

Harvey groans and holds his head. “So I had to endure your _disgusting_ behavior - being _sweet_ \- for nothing? Give me a _break_.”

“I may have said some things.”

“It's called _talking_. I heard normal people do that sometimes.”

“Okay, I may have been an ungrateful fuck.”

“ _May have_ been?”

“It's his fault!”

Harvey stops rummaging through the cupboards and raises an eyebrow at Jim who struggles to explain.

“You know how he is, yeah? Not backing down, proud, emotional.”

“An angry stubborn _whiny_ asshole, yes.”

“Except he's not!” Jim throws his hands up, frustrated.

“You speak in riddles, oh wise one.”

“Stop sassing me.”

“Yeah, whatever. Care to explain?”

“He didn't threaten me, or you, he didn't throw a tantrum, he was _controlled_. It's not like him and I didn't know how to react, so...”

“So _you_ threw a tantrum, just to keep the balance? Good job.” Whatever food Harvey brought is gone now. Jim scowls at his partner. Harvey shrugs.

“If it's reassuring, he didn't sound more murderous than normal.”

“Peachy.”

“Wanna hear some advice?”

“I don't know, _do_ I?”

“Call him and apologize. God, I can't believe I'm doing this.”

“The last time I took your advice, we fought and then went to shoot up some mobsters. We don't have a particularly good record.”, Jim comments. Harvey seems unperturbed.

“I'm serious, kid. You don't want Cobblepot to run around angry. Could end in blood.”

 

\--------------------

 

Oswald answers his phone - uncharacteristically - only after Jim's third try.

“ _What_.”

“Um... It's me, Jim.”

“I know.” Oswald sounds _pissed_. Seems like Harvey was wrong. “What do you want?”

“Err...”

“Come on, Jim. I'm busy. And we both know that you only call if you want something.”

Jim winces. That was unnecessary cruel. True, but still.

“I called to apologize.”, Jim begins.

Silence on the other end of the line.

“Cobblepot?”

Oswald scoffs, irritated. “Still with the last name. I was in your house, by your side, in your _bed_. What else does it take?”

“I'm-“

“You were in the middle of apologizing. Are you already finished?”

Jim grits his teeth - and thanks god that Harvey's already gone because there _would_ have been a stamina joke - and decides that maybe he should _think this through_ before he lets himself be goaded into another fight. They really are too good at this game.

“No, I wasn't done. But maybe the phone isn't the best option. I was thinking dinner?”

“Dinner.”

“Yeah. Because it's been a while.” Jim takes a deep breath. “I really just want to talk. And apologize. For being an ass.”

“Alright, Detective Gordon.”, Oswald answers and Jim mentally winces. “You can send me the details.” Jim hopes that the faint voices he can hear in the background are the reason for Oswald's frigid tone.

“Okay.”

“I'm looking forward to it.”, with that said Oswald hangs up.

Jim still thinks that this conversation - despite the apparent tension - went well. And he's relatively sure that he didn't just _imagine_ Oswald smiling during the last sentence.

 

\---------------

 

Jim's a lot more nervous than he would ever admit to himself - or Harvey for that matter, who is not so subtly staring at him for _at least_ ten minutes. That's coincidentally exactly as long as Jim's ignoring him. It's a truly epic battle of wills.

“I won't judge you.”, Harvey starts again. Jim sighs.

“Yeah.”

“No, really. Ask Alvarez.”

“You judge him constantly.”, Jim retorts. Still not looking up.

“That's true.”

“Shut up, Alvarez. Do I have to call your wife?”

“See?”

“He's got a point, Harvey.”

“I don't like any of you.”

“Stop mopping, Bullock. I've got work for you, Detectives.”, the captain interrupts. Sarah Essen has perfect timing, as usual, and Jim is - for once - grateful.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *casually leaves this here and scuttles back into the void*
> 
> As always, I hope you like it. Tell me what you think?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I´m so sorry about the near infinite amount of time it took me to post this chapter. I may have forgotten this fic for a few months...

***

 

It's another bank robbery. _Of course_ it is. The only difference is that this time the guys responsible are successful. They're not stealthy or quiet or even _unsuspicious_ \- they go in, shoot the cameras, shoot the security guard trying to intervene, and even take hostages, five of whom don't survive the encounter. They take the money and other valuables directly from the safe and vanish. No security footage, no suspicious hole in the ground or in a door, no broken locks. They're just gone, leaving traumatized people and baffled police in their wake.

The mayor gives a moving speech about the tragedy of it all (while rumors already mention the various ways he could be caught up in it), announcing it as a case for homicide because " _our best detectives of our best division will uncover this hideous crime and they won't rest until we can feel safe again, and if it's the last thing they do_ ". Which Jim interprets **mostly** as a threat. Way to up the pressure.

"Why us?", he - absolutely doesn't - whine.

" **You** had to make the front page. Don't go blaming me."

"We have perfectly capable cops on the streets. Why homicide? Don't we have other cases?" Maybe 'capable' isn't the best word to describe them. 'Functioning' and 'walking around' may be more appropriate. And it's not like Jim doesn't want to catch the culprits. However, there are enough murders in Gotham nobody but them cares about. He would rather help there. A case with this much of a media circus is going to get solved either way.

"Because the people are suckers for heroes, kid."

 

\----------------

 

They waste the next few hours combing through the building, searching every corner for any kind of evidence. The witnesses are unreliable, too shocked, statements not matching up. Evidence is reliable. If only it were as easy to find.

"Did you know that-"

"Ed. Not now.", Harvey interrupts. Jim's secretly glad. That was the conversation starter for the entire last hour and he doesn't think his head will be able to contain what's left of his sanity if he's hearing any more information nobody will ever need again.

"Not even if I found something?", Edward asks. As usual he's the only one truly excited to be at a crime scene.

"Couldn't you start with that?"

"It isn't as much fun if you just throw all the facts out there, is it?"

"You have a weird definition of fun, let me tell you."

"Cut to the chase, Nygma. Some of us can think of more pleasant things than crawling around in this damn bank.", Alvarez interrupts. "Right, Gordon?"

"What is it?", Jim asks instead of indulging Alvarez. Even though he's right. But nobody needs to know _that_.

"Riddle me this, Detective: The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?"

"Ed. Please. Just once give us a normal answer. I'm begging you.", Harvey groans.

"That's how you look when you beg? No wonder you have to pay for a bit action.", Alvarez grumbles.

Jim sighs. "Something on the floor? Footsteps. You found footprints."

Ed falters. "Right, yes. You're correct, Detective. Traces of a currently unknown substance, too. I'll have to analyze it."

"Don't let us keep you."

 

\----------------

 

"You've got to be kidding." Harvey groans.

"No, Detective, I'm not." To say Ed looks put out in light of the - subdued - reaction to his recent _fascinating_ discovery would only be a _minor_ understatement. If there had been crickets in the GCPD, you could have heard them chirping.

"It's an important lead."

"You found sugar, Nygma. If I sample Jim's coffee, I'll also find sugar. So where does this leave us?"

"Maybe you should do your job, Detective, as I just did mine, and we'll see where you end up."

"Whoa, easy. Something's bothering you? Because you sounded like you were just talking back to me."

"I'll leave you to it.", Ed responds and slinks back to wherever he stays when there's no case to summon him with.

"Maybe try to be a bit more decent? Heard it helped."

"Oh yeah, Jim? Because you know so well how to talk to someone without screwing up? Face it, we're stuck with each other."

"That was uncalled for.", Jim retorts, feigning shock.

Harvey snorts. " _That_ was uncalled for. You hurt my feelings."

"Feelings? Harvey Bullock? My friend, you must be joking."

"Now, that was just mean."

Jim grins. "Don't worry, I still love you."

"Aww. I'm flattered, really am. But don't you have a date already? Would hate to just be the other woman."

"Oh shit. I have to go. No, I have to cancel. We've got a case, I can't -"

" **You** are going. We have _sugar,_ Jim. Sugar. Do you know how much of that shit exists in this city? Do you wanna search _everywhere_? You're going to do your civic duty and prevent your _boyfriend_ \- can't believe I said that - from causing the crime statistics to rise even more."

"Harvey-"

"Please. Get your ass out of here. For me?"

Before Harvey can try to mock pout at him - because, by god, that's an image he absolutely doesn't want stuck in his head - Jim relents. "Okay. I- Thanks, I guess."

Harvey _winks_ at him. "Go get him, tiger."

"I think I'm going to throw up."

"That's a bit drastic, don't you think? I mean, yeah, he's weird and an asshole and a snitch, will most likely sell you out one day, and what the hell is up with the hair -"

"I meant you. Don't ever look at me like that again. Please. I'm begging."

"And I'm insulted."

"You'll get over it.", Jim consoles him on his way out.

"Try not to get stabbed!"

 

\----------------

 

He arrives just in time, disheveled, but at least wearing a fresh suit. It's a little restaurant, not too crowded, no one too curious. He suspects that this establishment also has some ties to the mob, but Oswald never confirms or denies it. It's nice and the food is good, so Jim lets it slide. They've been there quite a few times and as long as nothing too suspicious takes place he's content to just enjoy some downtime.

Oswald is already seated, wall at his back, and Jim's really glad that he can't spot Gabe or Victor. He's anxious enough without them hovering nearby and listening in.

"Jim. You've made it." There's no frosty infliction in Oswald's voice frost - just stating a fact.

"I said I would, didn't I?", Jim answers, smiling. Oswald tentatively smiles back. A start. Jim purposefully takes a seat with the room at his back. He figures a show of trust can only work in his favor.

"How are you?", he asks, cringing internally. Small talk. How he hates it.

Oswald raises an eyebrow. "Fine. Victor got himself in a shootout and someone managed to graze him. Gabriel stitched him up. How's your investigation going?"

Jim stares.

"Come on, James. I appreciate the effort of trying to have a normal conversation but I know you hate it, so let's just talk about something interesting even if it´s work. Agreed?"

"That's not how I planned this, but okay, you're right. We're stuck."

"Planning doesn't suit you." There's a fond smile. Jim's heart skips a beat. "You didn't find anything?"

"Sugar."

"What?"

"We found sugar. Doesn't really help, does it?"

"How much was it?"

"Enough to be found on a few footprints."

"I imagine most of it should have ended up on the street."

Oswald´s right. Jim´s mind races. "...And I can rule out any accidental 'spills' as it had to be something bigger.", he concludes.

"See, James? Talking can help."

"You're avoiding subjects as much as I do. However, for what it's worth, I am sorry. I've been unfair to you."

"And?"

"And I´ve been an ass. Thank you for staying."

" _Anything_ for you. I mean it." There's that damn honest bright smile again, the one where Oswald looks like he could _never_ even be associated with the mob. Jim would give anything to make it stay. "Just don't try these games with me again, Jim. I'm afraid that wouldn't end as well.", Oswald adds, smile hardening slightly. Back to mob boss. Jim nods. He knows that Oswald trusts him more than most of his own men, but even that has a limit. There´s only so many times he´ll risk being burned, before cutting ties. There´s too much to lose in the game for a place up high in Gotham´s underground business. So Jim will try.

"Can we eat now? Been running around all day."

"Don't let me stop you, James."

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter. I´ll try to get back to a more regular posting schedule.
> 
> Please don´t hesistate to leave a comment, I´d be happy to hear some thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5

***

 

"And? Did you get laid?"

"Jesus, Harvey! Give a man a warning!"

"Typical avoidance tactic. Got something to hide?"

"Are you drunk?"

"Don't think so. Did you screw up?" There's a look of - badly feigned - fear on Harvey's face. Jim suppresses the urge to punch it. He doesn't understand how Harvey sometimes can have such a punchable face. Fascinating.

"Have you finished checking me out? Should I take this as a sign that you're available again? Didn't think I was your type. Since I'm not skinny and have _great_ hair-"

"I'm still taken, thank you very much. Were you always this obnoxious?"

"Yes?"

"Didn't feel like it."

"Didn't use to hang around each other all the time, either. Maybe we should get a life?"

"Speak for yourself."

Harvey snorts. "You are literally dating your work. I don't look at all the crime and think ' _yes, I want more of this, preferable in my bed_ '."

"Well, fuck crime."

Harvey stares. Jim takes his chance and goes to search for _something_ to do. There's a lot of work. Presumably. Far away from Harvey. Yes. Sounds _perfect._

 

\----------------

 

Captain Essen isn't exactly _overjoyed_ to hear that their only lead would require them to search every warehouse, supermarket or ' _goddamn illegal sugar plant, what do I know what crazy things they do nowadays'._ In fact, she only glares at them and all but throws them out. Jim understands.

So now they're back on the streets, hoping something will turn up.

"Is it too much to ask for criminals who will **wait** at their crime scenes?", Harvey gasps, leaning against a wall and holding his side.

"Getting old? You would miss the exercise.", Jim answers, as out of breath as his partner, half kneeling on their suspect. Trying to drive a car through a storefront hadn't been the man's brightest idea, doing so in front of the cops even less. And since they seemed to be the only ones who could be bothered, it fell to Jim to run to catch the driver and to Harvey to make sure that he didn't stumble into another gang war in the process.

"Old?! Look who's talking. Who's the one hyperventilating?"

They both are. Their suspect is coughing.

"Are you laughing at us?", Jim asks, repositioning his knee on the man's back.

"Lawyer.", the guy grits out.

Jim throws Harvey a **look**.

Harvey shrugs. "Well, at least they are _learning_."

 

\----------------

 

It takes a slow week without progress, until there's news of their bank robbers again. Hoping that they would just stay hidden, disappear into the void, or stumble into the precinct to let themselves be arrested has proven to be futile, since Harvey yanks him out of the building as soon as Jim entered, because they have a _situation._

Jim even manages to refrain from questioning his partner's sanity until they are in the car - and Harvey thinks he doesn't _trust_ him (he just doesn't trust his judgement).

"What the hell, Harvey?! Where are we going?"

"Should have asked before following me into the car. People vanish this way, didn't you know?", Harvey tries to joke, but his eyes are firmly on the road. Has to be serious.

"How many?", Jim asks.

"Three. But that was before the cameras shorted out."

"Another bank?"

"Yeah. Right in the damn financial district."

"All eyes on us."

"Yeah."

Jim sighs. Shit. "Okay. Do we know _anything_?"

"Masks and the usual shouting about dropping everything and everyone getting down. They are operating like every robber in history, nothing to set them apart."

"Did something set them off?"

"Not that anyone knows."

"They are just more _rushed_ and aggressive... Why?"

"If I knew what's going on in their damn heads do you really think I would be here right now with you?", Harvey asks and almost kills them taking a corner. Jim considers praying.

"You wouldn't."

"Damn right. More like living the sweet life in the Caribbean."

"You would miss this and the rain - _and god would you just look where we're going?!_ " Jim's voice doesn't go high-pitched at that. Not at all.

"Quit whining and get out, we're here."

"…I didn't know we _had_ that much press in the city."

"Ugh. Then put on your best smile and let's do this.", Harvey grinds out, grimacing. Or smiling. Hard to say.

Jim gives him a forced polite smile of his own. "After you."

The flash of a camera saves him from a sarcastic comeback. The media is on the _prowl_.

 

\----------------

 

There are no news, even half an hour later. A hastily pulled together unit is trying to establish a connection, the press trying to get a shot of _something_ and the rest of the GCPD tries to keep up some measure of control - more or less successfully.

Jim finds himself roped into keeping civilians calm - because the robbers herded everyone into the back, rendering the glass facade all but useless. Shiny but after all worth nothing, the essence of materialism, and if this kind of thought isn't testament to him slowly going insane then he doesn't know. He can't even blame the sun. Since it's _pissing._

Jim's jaw hurts from grimacing - _smiling_ \- his way through a dozen conversation. He's restless, waiting for _something_. Why hostages when you don't **want** something? It's just so-

"Are you even listening?!"

"Sir, I'm sorry that your wife is in there, but we can't -"

"You can't?! Do you know who I am?! I'm-"

"Sir. We can't just barge in and risk everyone inside on the off-chance that they are gone. We have to gather intel. Please."

A grunt. But the man moves on.

Jim sighs and looks for Harvey who somehow managed to get a front row seat. Meaning he's leaning too much into the personal space of some poor officer who's tasked with thinking of a way to get someone into the building without setting off a chain reaction.

"I say we just walk in there. They are gone.", Jim announces himself.

"Great idea. On what do you base that assumption? Facts?", the officer retorts, sarcasm evident. They're all keyed up.

"Because nothing's happening. No call, no daring escape attempt, no threats."

"Maybe they're just waiting for a fool to walk in so they can continue shooting people."

"And how likely is that?", Jim shoots back. This inaction is just _frustrating_.

"Very unlikely.", comes a voice to his right. Jim jerks around, surprised. "Hello, Detectives."

"Cobblepot.", Harvey - almost _politely_ \- greets. At least he doesn't sound as poisonous as usual. Progress.

"What are you doing here?", Jim asks, mindful of the officer who stares at Oswald like they've never seen a human being before. Maybe it's because he's as always overdressed for the occasion. Or maybe Zsasz, standing behind Oswald and starring unblinking at Jim, has something to do with that.

"I had business to attend to just a few streets over and heard of your _situation_. I thought, maybe I could offer my assistance?"

"This is a robbery, the money's already gone. There's nothing in it for you."

"You know that's not how I make deals, Detective Bullock."

"So what do you want?"

"This time? Nothing. Here's nothing I need. I'm only telling you that you can go in. They're gone."

"And you know because...?", Jim chimes in, interrupting his starring contest with Zsasz for a second.

"Because I made a few calls. News like this travel fast."

"Can't **he** go first? Just in case?", Harvey asks and points to Victor.

"Sure, if you want to explain why a _civilian_ had to do your job."

"…"

"Trust me, Jim."

"... Yeah, alright. Harvey, you coming?"

"You know that he would fuck you over if he would get even the slightest use out of it?"

"Harvey, it makes sense that they're gone, even if we don't know how. It's not a shoot in the dark -"

"Just because you want to get laid agai-"

"Harvey! We. Are. Going.", Jim interrupts his partner, looking pointedly at the officer still sitting there being _very_ interested in the police car next to them.

Harvey rolls his eyes. "Fine. But you are going first."

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaannnd, I kinda forgot about this story again... But now I´m (hopefully) back on track. ^.^"
> 
> Thanks to everyone for the kind comments, they really made my day. ^.^


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